


One Sentimental Moment

by anywh3r3y0uwant2g0



Series: Ineffable Husbands One Shots [9]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Couch Cuddles, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Drunkenness, Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Pining Crowley (Good Omens), Queen (Band) Lyrics, Songfic, i don't know how to tag, i'm a mess, idrk what counts as songfic, maybe?? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:48:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26330662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anywh3r3y0uwant2g0/pseuds/anywh3r3y0uwant2g0
Summary: A night of drinking at the bookshop. Aziraphale's shirt gets untucked, he says something that Crowley doesn't hear, they cuddle, and overall Crowley is a mess. The Bentley does not let him off easy, either.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Ineffable Husbands One Shots [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1784653
Comments: 2
Kudos: 45





	One Sentimental Moment

**Author's Note:**

> Hiiiiiii so the title and the song mentioned in the fic is "One Year of Love" by Queen, it's really great and you should not hesitate to check it out if you don't know it!! Anyway, the only potential CW is drinking.

It was a pleasantly warm summer night. The windows of A. Z. Fell’s bookshop were open and a breeze occasionally drifted through them, tousling the blazing red hair of a certain demon. This demon was currently reclining in a chair, ranting about how insane it was that flying squirrels existed. I suppose it should be mentioned that said demon was quite intoxicated, as was the angel accompanying him. 

“The Almighty must’ve been high off her _arse_ when she invented that lot. Rodents! With wings!” he took another swig from his drink.

The angel giggled and slouched down on the couch. “They don’t have _wings,_ Crowley,” he spoke between laughs. 

Crowley stumbled over his words before finally getting out, “Well, I mean, I guess… ehhhhh but they can still fly!! That’s- that’s-” he sat up to make his point, “you know what that is? That’s downright _nutty_ if you ask me,” he leaned back and took another drink.

Aziraphale couldn’t stop laughing. He slid down further on the couch. He laughed so hard that some of his drink spilled, which caused all laughter to cease immediately. “Oh! Oh no,” he plopped all the way off the couch and onto the carpet, which now had the beginning of a red stain blooming. The act of sliding off the couch had also caused his shirt to become untucked, but the angel didn’t even notice, he was too preoccupied with trying to clean up the spilled wine. 

Unfortunately, his brain wasn’t fully-functional at the moment, and he used his coattail to mop up some of the wine. When he realized his mistake he gave a horrified gasp. 

“What ‘appened?” Crowley asked, leaning forward, concerned about his angel. When he saw he was just fussing over a few stains he hummed, “‘S alright. You can miracle ‘em away later,” Aziraphale just looked up at him with large eyes and a huge pout. “Fine, fine,” Crowley snapped (harder than he meant to, his fingers stung a bit afterward) and the stains were gone. 

Aziraphale looked up at him with a pleased expression. “Thank you, my dear,” he moved to stand up, wavering slightly, as the alcohol had diminished much of his balance. Once he got his footing, he removed his coat, not wanting any more harm to come upon it. 

Unbeknownst to Aziraphale, Crowley’s heartbeat quickened. He hardly ever saw the angel without many layers covering his corporation. His mind was racing incoherently, _Aziraphale! Soft! Angel! Blue! Touch-_ he cut himself off there. He was a demon, he had no right to even think of touching Aziraphale’s angelic corporation! 

Aziraphale laid his coat over the back of the couch and then returned to his seat. He gave a small happy wiggle after taking a sip of his wine, his eyes closed, savoring the experience. 

Crowley coughed slightly, trying to rid himself of the warm feeling that was taking hold of his corporation that he was sure had nothing to do with the alcohol. “Y’know what else is weird?”

Aziraphale hummed interestedly, eyes fixed on Crowley. 

“Dogs!” Aziraphale snorted and Crowley felt his stomach do a flip. _What the-_ “Because!” _burp._ “The Almighty didn’t create them! Humans jus’... y’know,” his hands flailed dramatically, not doing anything to help make his point. Aziraphale giggled and slid down the couch slightly, his shirt riding up to expose an inch and a half of pale skin that shook with his giggles. Crowley froze. Aziraphale continued to giggle, with no clue as to what he was inadvertently doing to the demon.

Aziraphale’s giggles subsided after Crowley had been silent for a bit. He looked at the demon with concern etched across his features. “Are you alright?” the black-clad man was quite red and looked rather frozen in place. Aziraphale wasn’t even sure if he was still breathing, but of course they didn’t need to breathe so he wasn’t too alarmed. “Crowley?”

The demon’s eyes snapped up to meet Aziraphale’s. “Muh- er- shp- ah- yeah?” the fact that Crowley was very drunk was not at all aiding his situation. 

Aziraphale just smiled at him, “C’mere,” he said, hand waving him over. 

Crowley stood up like he was in a trance. He very carefully sat next to Aziraphale, making sure there were no spots of contact. 

The angel quickly ruined his hard work, however, as he leaned heavily against Crowley. He shifted so he was near lying down, with his head resting in the center of the demon’s torso. He looked up at him with soft blue eyes and Crowley’s mind went blank once more. Well, not blank. It was chock full of thoughts of nothing but the angel. Suddenly, he realized Aziraphale had been speaking to him. And he looked as though he expected an answer. “I- er- wha...?” 

Aziraphale chuckled slightly, his form shaking against Crowley. “Well, maybe you don’t think it’s that crazy. But I’m not used to breaking rules,” he sighed, and his breath tickled Crowley’s arm. “Not even rules, exactly. Just… im- im- impl- norms that no one goes against,” Crowley’s mind was going a mile a minute. What had Aziraphale said? He had missed something dreadfully important, that’s for sure. He couldn’t possibly ask him to repeat himself _now,_ after the conversation had already moved on. He decided to just hum in what he hoped could be interpreted as agreement or disagreement or however he should have reacted. 

“But,” Aziraphale shifted so the eye contact they shared was so tender Crowley could melt. His breath felt like it was permanently caught in his throat. “I’m glad we’re so close. Heaven was wrong about at least one demon,” Aziraphale smiled up at him, his face showing how much he meant this. Crowley was positive he would combust at any moment. He didn’t say anything back; he didn’t trust himself to speak. He was drunk, and he knew that his emotions were near the surface. If he started to talk he might spew all of his true feelings for the angel and scare him off. 

Luckily for him, Aziraphale didn’t seem to need a response. He moved again, getting more comfortable against Crowley and, incidentally, revealing more of his round stomach. He didn’t even seem to notice. Crowley completely forgot how to breathe. 

But then again… maybe he did notice. 

Aziraphale reached for Crowley’s hand. The demon allowed his arm to be very gently guided to wrap around the angel. Once he had it where he wanted it Aziraphale reached to Crowley’s hand with his own and held it there. Their hands rested on Aziraphale’s chest, fingers intertwined. 

Crowley could hardly believe this was real. But it was. The warmth from Aziraphale’s hand was flowing through his whole body. All of him felt like it was on fire in the best way possible. This was… immaculate. 

But then again the angel was very drunk. Maybe Crowley was reading too much into it. This probably didn’t mean anything, people often became more friendly when they were drunk. 

But he had known Aziraphale for quite a while… nearing 6000 years to be more precise. And the angel hadn’t acted like this in the past. Especially not the kind words he was saying. Of course, he had complimented Crowley before this, but definitely not to the degree of saying Heaven was _wrong._ Did this mean…?

_Don’t!_ Crowley scolded himself, _Don’t get your hopes up just to be let down. You know how this ends. He’s an angel for Hell’s sake. Of course he loves you, he loves everything. He doesn’t care for you in the way you care for him so just stop it._

He was brought back to reality by Aziraphale humming contentedly and giving his hand a small squeeze. 

God- Satan- Somebody! How he wondered what was going on inside that pretty little head of his. He gazed into his curls; his head truly was pretty. Like the rest of the angel, it was quite a sight to see. 

Without letting his mind worry too much about the consequences, he bent down and softly placed his lips on the head of an angel. He inhaled deeply before retreating, relishing in the sweet smell of whatever hair product the angel used. It felt like there was something in his chest that had a death grip over his heart. 

When he moved away Aziraphale looked up at him with the most tender and gleeful smile he had ever seen on the angel (and that was saying something, indeed). The tight feeling in his chest disappeared and suddenly all of his insides felt like they were doing flips and blending together. Did Aziraphale know what he just did? How was he being so calm about this?? Did this mean… could it possibly…?

Crowley tried to school his features into smiling back at the angel, but that proved a difficult task since he was focusing on keeping his heart from beating out of his chest. 

But apparently he did well enough because Aziraphale relaxed into his chest once more. 

Crowley had to bite his lip to keep from screaming. 

He probably just thought he had rested his chin on his head. Yes, that was it. That was definitely all Crowley had done. No k- nothing else. 

Suddenly, Aziraphale stiffened. “Oh good lord, am I reading that properly?” he sat up to get a closer look at the clock “Oh heavens, Crowley! It’s late! You should probably be in bed, I know we don’t _need_ sleep, but you like it, yes?” Aziraphale turned to him with a lot of… desperation in his eyes. Was it desperation? Crowley _was_ very drunk, he may have been reading him wrong…

“Eh! I’ve got nowhere to be, angel,” to emphasize his point he reclined further into the couch. “I could stay… if you’d like…” the angel looked at him for a moment, eyes teeming with hope and then… he looked to the ground. 

“‘Right,” Crowley said softly, a lump in his throat. “Well, I’d better sober up before I drive off,” he searched the angel’s face, giving him one last chance to change his tune, ask him to stay. 

He didn’t. “I suppose I will too then,” Crowley didn’t even feel the need to sober up anymore. This conversation was sobering enough. But what was he expecting? Their time together always ended with them parting ways. Always has and always will. It’s not like they’d ever be able to _live_ together. Christ- what was Crowley even thinking…

He clenched his muscles, willing the alcohol out of his body and back into the bottles he had gotten it from. Aziraphale did the same, scrunching his face in disdain at the taste sobering up left on his tongue.

Crowley stood up with ease now that there was no alcohol in his system and no angel resting on his body, not that he was pleased with _either_ of these facts. 

Aziraphale stood up as well to see him out the door. 

Crowley did not move toward the door. 

He just stood there, awkwardly staring at Aziraphale. 

He wanted to do something, he wanted- he wanted to make _contact_ before they had to part. He wanted to do more- so much more- than just kiss the angel on the head. 

But he didn’t. The moment ended and he made his way toward the door. 

“Drive safely,” Aziraphale said with a feeble looking smile.

“You know I won’t,” Crowley tried to respond in his usual flippant, teasing manner but it resulted in Aziraphale’s eyes clouding with worry. “I-” he sighed. “You know I’m a safe enough driver, angel,” when Aziraphale did not look sufficiently comforted he added on, “I’ll be fine,” in a quieter tone of voice. 

“Ok,” Aziraphale smiled at him with so much… trust. Crowley gave him a quick smile back and was out the door. 

“Just be careful!” he called after him as he opened the door of the Bentley. 

“‘M always careful!” and with that, he tore away from the shop with a squeal of tires. 

The Bentley wasted _no_ time blasting Freddie Mercury’s voice out of the speakers. 

_“Just one year of love  
is better than a lifetime alone!  
One sentimental moment in your arms   
is like a shooting star right through my heart!”_

Crowley groaned. “Would you quit that? It’s not very funny,” the Bentley did not take this into consideration. 

_“My heart cries out to your heart.  
I’m lonely, but you can save me!  
My hand reaches out for your hand.  
I’m cold but you light the fire in me!”_

Fucking hell, did this song have to be so accurate?! Every lyric resonated with Crowley in a deeply personal way. 

“Stupid Queen and their blasted perfect songs,” he said, definitely not wiping a tear away from under his sunglasses. That did _not_ happen. 

_“My lips search for your lips!  
I’m hungry for your touch.   
There’s so much left unspoken!  
And all I can do is surrender  
to the moment, just surrender!”_

“Could you just be quiet?!” Crowley hissed. The Bentley did not oblige. It _blasted_ the saxophone line and continued to play at full volume when Freddie returned with the next set of lyrics that felt they were specially written about Crowley. 

_“And no one ever told me that love would hurt so much!  
(Ooh yes it hurts)  
And pain is so close to pleasure!  
And all I can do is surrender to your love…  
(Just surrender to your love!)”_

Freddie refrained with the lyrics the song began with. Crowley growled and stomped on the gas. If the Bentley wouldn’t put him out of his misery he’d drive them back to his flat faster than he’d ever gone before. 

He still didn’t make it home before the end of the song, but only barely, the song the Bentley had played after “One Year of Love” hadn’t stuck in his head. 

The song plagued him for the rest of the night.

He lay awake in bed, reliving his “one sentimental moment,” over and over again. He really didn’t want it to be one. Singular. He wanted more, _craved_ more. But Freddie was right, it was certainly better than a lifetime alone. There was still hope that another _miraculous_ moment would occur. That Aziraphale would come to his senses and they would- There was still hope.

**Author's Note:**

> Aah!! I really hope you guys liked this!!! Any comments or kudos you want to leave are deeply appreciated <3 Thank you so much for reading!!!!


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